Alone in the dark

Alone in the dark

An old man dies

A baby cries

The longer it waits

To be held

The closer we get to the end

When there is no life

Behind

Whitewashed windows

Covered in newsprint

Lurid stories lost

In grime

There will be a time

When to live is a crime

Inbuilt obsolescence

The lie of adolescence

There is no invulnerability

Old age is not cool

Or venerable

Bakelite phones

Once a thing

Resemble

An ensemble of

Sun-bleached bones

That never ring

They hang in rows

In station halls

Stand in corners

Old-timers

In forgotten diners

Skeleton

Crews

Waiting for breakfast

Whatever came first

Is now last

There is no connection

To the past

We are future-proof

The funhouse has no roof

The walls fell down

Around our ears

For the want of a couple of beers

And an each way spread

The end came

As an end game